“Why do you ask?” Conor asked.
“I saw that number, drawn on a truck,” Dermot said, gesturing across the street. “For a while it was parked over at the house where the woman was murdered. It belongs to Suzanne.”
“Do you know her?” Kate asked.
“Not really. She told me she was working with your assistant, for the wedding,” he said, and looked apologetic, as if he didn’t want to cause pain.
“It’s okay, Dermot,” Kate said.
He nodded and gave her a smile. “Anyway, I asked her about the 1740 on the door—because the lettering was beautiful. Lots of cars have stenciling on them, but that was different. I thought I might get some on mine.”
“What did she say?” Conor asked.
“She said she’d done it herself. That her specialty was calligraphy, so why not put it on her truck? But then she said something I didn’t quite get. She said the number was sacred. It was a symbol that protected her and gave her life.”
“She said ‘gave her life’?” Conor asked.
“Yes,” Dermot said.
Conor took it in, the extreme phrase that Suzanne had used. He felt charged, the way he did when puzzle pieces began to fit together. The idea a number could give Suzanne life went along with the idea ofobsession that he’d been forming about the case. Symbols—the number, the rose, the recurring theme ofBeauty and the Beast, even Suzanne’s name—perhaps inspired by that of the original author, were obsessions that ran all through the case.
“When’s the last time you saw Suzanne?” Conor asked.
Dermot thought for a few seconds. “Early this morning,” he said. “I’m not sure of the time. She hasn’t valeted a car with us, but she’s always walking around. It’s been so busy.”
“Of course,” Kate said. “It’s Fourth of July weekend.”
Not to mention all the guests for a big wedding that never happened, Conor thought. “Can you tell me who unlocked Maeve’s car?” he asked.
“We always keep guests’ vehicles locked,” Dermot said. “We hold the keys in a safe place.”
“Then it was Maeve herself or someone who knew where she hid the extra key,” Kate said. “Used it to open the door, then put it back in the box in the wheel well.”
“They’ll be on camera,” Dermot said.
“Thanks, that’s helpful to know,” Conor said. Then he texted Joe and said to meet in the lobby right away.
Conor went to the front desk and asked to see the person in charge of security, and Joe arrived at the same time Augustus Lande called them into his office. Joe showed his badge and explained what they needed. Kate had narrowed the window of time down to when she, Maeve, and Sam had returned from Maynard-King.
“You can start in the upper parking lot around 3:30 p.m. yesterday,” Conor said. Against the wall were several monitors. Augustus cued up yesterday’s parking lot footage and fast-forwarded it through yesterday afternoon, until Conor saw movement near Maeve’s BMW.
“Stop there,” Conor said. The exact time was 6:13 p.m.
They watched the screen. Maeve approached the driver’s side of the vehicle with someone wearing a ball cap and a windbreaker, shoulders hunched. Maeve crouched by the front tire, removed the hidden key,and clicked the remote so that the car lights blinked and the side door mirrors flared out, indicating that the door had just been unlocked.
“Can you tell who that is with her?” Joe asked, leaning forward.
Conor stared at the screen. The hoodie was bulky, the face obscured. Head held low, the ball cap hid the eyes and most of the face as if Maeve’s companion was aware there were cameras. Even his height was hard to assess, because of his bent-over posture. Conor had the impression he was quite a bit taller than Maeve but trying to hide that fact.
Kate leaned forward to get a better look.
They watched Maeve lean into the front seat of the BMW and emerge holding what looked like a small white card or piece of paper.
“The note from Tyler’s grave?” Conor asked, looking at Kate.
“It could be,” she said.
The man had his back to the camera; looking down the street, he made a quick gesture, and a black Range Rover drove alongside the BMW. The front passenger door swung open.
